Page 148 of The Dommes

“Yes, Katie. I think you created a complex in me.”

Her tiny grin soothes my nerves. “I’m done confessing, Mistress. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

I stroke her hair, watching that blonde hair I just confessed to loving spill over her side and brush against the ottoman. “Do you feel better?”

“I do. But I would feel even better if you…”

Two steps ahead of her, I round the ottoman. “Would give you myself. Yes, I figured. Your only order is to not make me come. You’ll be happier if I don’t yet anyway.”

I don’t give her time to answer before I shove myself in her face.

Her fingers clench the edge of the ottoman for balance as I take over everything, giving over to my own urges for her. Her muscles relax without contest. Her muffled voice acclimates to moans. Her teeth graze my flesh, but it doesn’t hurt – in fact, it feels pleasurable. I told her to not make me come, but it’s going to be difficult.

I hold her head between my hands as I thrust against her mouth, delighting in eagerness of her kissable lips and the hot breaths enveloping me. I wonder if I took off the blindfold I would see her gazing at me, adoring me. I don’t risk it, however. Looking her in the eye really would make me come, and I’m determined not to yet.

All I want is to fuck her.

This is my way of purging my negative thoughts. I don’t need to confess them to her. She knows my insecurities, and I have plenty of them, like anyone else. I’d rather rid my mind of them this way, however. It doesn’t hurt anybody, not even her. In fact, I hear that whine in her moans that begs for more.

“Right there.” I can’t hold back the gravel in my voice. “Now you can’t accidentally say anything more.”

She tries to follow me as I pull away, but my hold on her head keeps her back. She’s soaking wet on both ends, and I’m about to burst.

Everything hurts, in a delightful way, as I round the ottoman again and bring her hips toward me. “Say it, darling,” I growl. “Say you want me to fuck you.”

“I do, Mistress.” Her gasps sound like they’re from another world. Good. She’s entering a better headspace. “Please! I can’t take it anymore. You’ve got a plug in my ass and…”

She sounds like a maniac when I pull apart her folds with my thumbs and shove two fingers in her “And me in your pussy. I know, darling.”

So it begins – and ends.

I welcome the sounds of her moaning, crying out, and near shrieking as I thrust into her, grab her ponytail, and tug on the chain in her ass. It’s all a symphony of pleasure to me. A symphony I appreciate more now that my knuckles have made their way home into the depths of Kathleen’s sumptuous body.

Her heat astounds me. She nearly burns, her need for me the fire that’s calling this moth to the dangerous flame. I can’t help it. I need her as much as she desires me. I’ll push in as deep as I can, feeling her innermost places and preparing to devour her, to mark everything I touch so no other could possibly think they can have her.

It’s these barbaric moments that make me feel the closest to heaven.

“Ira!” She’s screaming my name, but I can’t listen, because I’m so awakened to the slickness of her flesh and the tightening of her inner walls. “Please, please let me come!”

I want to. I want to do more than that. Like push my other hand down my underwear and touch where her tongue was only a moment before. I’d have to take off my clothes to mark her. But it’s fine. She knows how badly I want her; she can’t get enough of us making love.

The sound of our bodies conjoining. The scent of her, of me, of us becoming one. The taste of it on the air. The sight of my fingers sliding in and out of her glistening folds, feeling how ready she is inside to take me.

It all becomes an erotic symphony that is truly a banquet for this Domme’s senses.

But it’s not enough. I pull both hands away from their targets, feasting on my need to come but denying myself all the same.

And denying her.

“Ira Mathison I swear to God…”

I yank her off the ottoman, the chain slapping against her calves as I make her walk in those stiletto heels to my bed. She lands with a soft thump as I push her down, drawing her legs up onto the bed and shoving her pink T-shirt up so I see a hint of those hard nipples and can watch the jiggle of the underside of her breasts every time I slam into her. I don’t need these damn pants. What I need is to wrap my legs around Kathleen and ride her to orgasm.

I also rip off her blindfold.

Fuck, I was right when I said I would lose it looking into her eyes. And yet I can’t help myself. My hands hold her down by the shoulders as I reclaim her center with half my hand. The gasp, the widening of her eyes, those sweet blues sparkling as they gloss over and she returns to a world where she begins to come over and over.

My hands hook beneath her knees and hold them up, granting me a better angle to take her. I’m so deep, so far in that I can barely thrust in and out. It doesn’t help that her constant climaxing has her clenched down on me like a vise. I’ve barely registered that I’ve been touching myself as well, dangerously close to the edge.

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